


Believe Me

by brejamison



Series: Catching Dick Grayson [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Has Depression Ya'll, Fluff and Angst, Gen, God Bless Donna Troy, Jason is Baby Bisexual, Koriand'r is A Good Girlfriend, She doesn't understand humans but she's trying, Suicidal Thoughts, trigger warning: suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brejamison/pseuds/brejamison
Summary: In which Rachel learns what Depression is. And that her best friend has it Bad.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Donna Troy, Dick Grayson & Raven, Dick Grayson/Koriand'r
Series: Catching Dick Grayson [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670530
Comments: 17
Kudos: 190





	1. The Story

**Author's Note:**

> From my own personal experiences with moderate to severe Depression. I see a lot of it in Dick, so wanted to get this down while it was still fresh.

Rachel woke up in the middle of the night to a heavy weight pressing down on her. It felt like an invisible wet blanket had been draped across the top of her emotions, subduing them. She wasn't a particularly emotional person to begin with - having learned early that her emotions were tied tightly to her powers - but she hated this feeling of apathy.

Climbing out of bed, she padded out of her room in search of the source of the feeling. Being an empath, she was regularly tuned to the emotions swirling around inside the tower. Jason's twitchy anxiety, Gar's nervousness around strangers but limitless love and affection once they were deemed not a threat. Kori was still a mystery to her, but Rachel was learning how to read the alien woman, picking up on nonverbal clues. Their regular guests (Donna, Dawn, and Hank) were pretty open and raw about their emotions, practically displaying them like billboards across their faces.

She had come a long way in the last few months. Meditating had improved her mental state several times over and if she was ever jolted awake at the wee hours of the morning, more often than not it was due to one of her teammates' nightmares instead of her own.

Slowly, she crept down the many hallways, like a bloodhound stalking a scent. She followed the emotional presence to the training room, which was weird. Slipping inside, she found Kori worriedly draped over Dick, who was hiding behind his hands and knees, sobbing quietly.

"What's going on?"

Kori's attention snapped to her. Dick huddled deeper into his arms, one hand covering his face.

"Hey, baby," Kori greeted kindly, her hand rubbing small circles on Dick's back. Rachel regarded her carefully.

"What's going on?" she asked again, taking an experimental step deeper into the room. The emotional weight hung like a strong odor and she hated it but it intrigued her.

Kori smiled at her. "Nothing serious. Just going through some stuff, is all." She nodded out. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

Rachel leaned to one side and looked at Dick. He kept his face behind his hand, but she could tell by the pulling at his lips and shuddering of his chest he was wracked with whole-body sobs. A choked sound came from deep in his throat before he could catch it and Rachel felt her heart rate spike. Kori turned back to him, eyes soft and soothing. She didn't say anything, but Rachel saw the way he hid from even her comfort.

Those almost Catholic levels of self-guilt at it again.

Kori swallowed loudly, gulping back a thick lump in her throat. "Why don't you go back to bed, Rachel?" she pleaded quietly.

Rachel looked at her. It was the first time she had ever heard the woman really ask for anything, much less beg for it. She was usually so strong and demanding; her quiet plea broke something in Rachel and she couldn’t disobey.

Bowing her head, she padded to the door. "Goodnight."

Kori managed a grin at her. "Goodnight, baby."

Outside the training room, Rachel paused, listening intently. There was silence for a long moment before she heard Kori quietly start talking.

_"Do we need to talk about it, Dick?"_

He started sobbing again, hitched breaths tearing him apart. He was crying too hard to pull in a full breath, loud gasps and wet keening sounds filling the room.

Rachel listened to the noises until she couldn't anymore. She moved, pushing off the wall and marching to her teammates' rooms.

"Family meeting," she announced, slamming loudly on Jason's door. She did the same to Gar's, instructing the boys to meet in her room.

A few minutes later they, looking quite ruffled and thoroughly confused, were looking at her expectantly. She was perched on the edge of her bed, fingers pulling at her sleeves nervously. Gar sat backwards on her desk chair, trying not to yawn (he was awake, really). Jason crossed his arms, staring at the raven girl.

"Something's wrong with Dick,” she informed.

Gar pulled in a shuddering breath. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Something's _always_ wrong with Dick," he informed. "He hates himself, remember? That train wreck conscience of his?"

She shook her head, dismissing him. "No. This... this was something different. I felt him. It woke me up so I went to investigate. He's with Kori in the training room right now, crying his eyes out."

Gar shifted uncomfortably. "About what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Kori sent me back to bed before I could ask. But it's... it's not normal."

"What _is_ normal around here?"

"I mean it wasn't normal sadness," she corrected sharply. Jason slightly stepped off. If anyone knew what anyone else was feeling in this damn tower, it was her.

"I can't really describe it. But I'm worried. It almost felt like..."

Slowly, Gar's eyebrows crunched curiously. "Did something happen? To that old circus friend of his or something?"

Jason considered it but shook his head quickly. "Not a chance. Anything happened to him and Dick wouldn't be here crying about it. He'd be out caving in faces and busting femurs, trust me."

"Something back in Gotham maybe?"

Another dismissal. "I would've heard about it too, then. And I doubt he left anybody there worth crying over. ...Still." He rubbed his knuckles in thought (a nervous habit he may or may not picked up from Dick because it may or may not make him feel important). "There's one way to check."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

In a matter of moments, the trio was huddled in the darkroom, Jason punching at the keyboard. After crossing Clay off the list of possibilities, he was scrolling through headlines of Gotham, police chatter pulled up on the radio. So far, all they had found was a series of robberies and some scandal around the upcoming election. Nothing worse tears, much less whatever else was going on (Rachel kept insisting it was more than that, but refused to elaborate further.)

"How about Detroit?" Gar volunteered. He glanced at Rachel for confirmation. "That's where he used to live, right? Maybe something out there."

A few keystrokes and Jason had a new search pulled up.

"Unless he's losing it over a dog who saves people from burning buildings, nothing."

The group sighed, discouraged. They were running out of options.

Jason made a thoughtful noise and got back to typing.

"The League?" Gar wondered, frowning at the screen curiously.

"Who knows. Remember the old Titans? We all know he's got friends in high places."

While it wasn't a bad guess, it, like everything else, only ended up giving them more questions than answers.

Gar huffed, rubbing his face. The whole being awoken in the middle of the night thing was starting to get to him and this was turning into a fruitless endeavor.

"As much as I hate to say it, I don't think we're gonna find anything. Maybe we just have to wait and see what happens in the morning?"

Jason slapped a button and the monitors started shutting down. "If he's not bleeding - which it didn't sound like he was? - I'm with Gar. We should just go back to bed and wait it out. Either it'll blow over or he'll tell us."

"Or he'll hide it like he always does." It was the first thing Rachel had said since their search began and the boys had to admit she was right.

"He doesn't _always_ hide--"

"He didn't tell us he grew up in the circus until we had known him for, like, a week? And we didn't even know he was Robin until he was taking down that crazy family coming after me." She crossed her arms. "He hides stuff all the time."

Jason was quiet for a second. "Yeah, well, he did tell you eventually, right?"

She looked away.

"Look..." He sighed, standing. "If it's something we need to know, Dick will tell us. I wouldn't say he's secretive... but he does operate more on a need to know basis type thing. He gets it from the Bat, I guess."

"Rachel..." Gar rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "We gotta trust Dick. I, I don't know what you felt, but we have to trust that he can handle it. And you said Kori was with him, right? So at least whatever he's going through, he's not doing it alone."

She chewed at her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. No, they didn't feel what she had, they couldn't possibly understand the level of heartbreak that was coming off of him. It scared her, to know he was going through that. And it pissed her off that he didn't tell her. Still, she had to trust him. And if not him, at least he had Kori to keep him under control.

"Fine." With that she was gone, stomping out the room. She swiped at her eyes with her sleeves, heaving a shaky breath and she made her way back to her room for the rest of the night.

Family meeting adjourned, then.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Donna was there in the morning. Rachel hadn't seen her come in.

"Morning," the Amazonian greeted as Rachel entered the kitchen. She motioned to the pan on the stove, a pile of pancakes already standing at attention off to the side. "'fraid I'm not much of a chef, but this boxed stuff looked easy enough."

The suspicious glare Rachel gave her wasn't very kind or welcoming. She stomped to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice. Despite her best efforts, she just couldn't get used to the grimy taste of coffee like Jason had. She much more preferred the fruity flavors of a good herbal tea. Except for in the morning. Breakfast always needed orange juice.

"Are you here for Dick?"

Donna's lips twitched in confirmation. Not that she was expecting to keep her motives from the supernaturally powered empath for very long, but maybe at least through breakfast.

"I am. Kori asked me to come in last night." She scraped at a particularly stubborn pancake, accidentally tearing its corner off as she flipped it. “Got in early this morning.”

Rachel positioned herself at the bar, cradling her glass of OJ as she mulled over the response.

"So it's happened before. Whatever’s going on with Dick. It’s happened before.”

Donna sighed, leaning on the counter as she looked at the goth girl. "Rachel, I know you care about Dick. And he cares a lot about you too, believe me. I just don't think he would want me talking about this right now."

"He wouldn't want it, or you don't?"

She chuckled, returning to the pan. "Bit of both, I guess."

"Rachel."

Kori was frozen in the doorway, hand in her hair and blinking at Rachel as if she was surprised to see her.

The girl made a face, unsure of what to say. Did Kori, just, forget she lived here?

Remembering herself, the woman straightened, entering the room. Rachel watched her scrutinizingly. 

The woman grinned at her warmly. "Morning."

"Are _you_ going to tell me what's going on with Dick?"

A pause. Then one single silent scoff bubbled up from Kori's throat because of course Rachel was rudely blunt about her concern.

Donna made a face as if she hadn't been receiving the same treatment all morning.

"Why don't you let Dick tell you what's going on with him?" Kori offered. Rachel perked up.

"He's awake?"

The woman considered it, grabbing the syrup from the fridge. "Hmm, probably not. But he should be conscious at least."

Rachel was off her stool before she was even finished.

"Rachel, wait!"

She froze mid-step. Damn her and inability to ignore a direct order from Kori Danvers.

With a sigh Kori looked at her, sounding very much like she didn't want to have this conversation. Not now and not ever. "Dick really needs to be alone right now, okay? He's..." She looked at Donna because at least the Amazonian was from earth and understood their mind-numbing amount of ailments.

"Is he sick?" Rachel asked.

Donna flicked off the stove and tossed her spatula into the sink. She met Rachel's eyes, a frown creasing her thick eyebrows.

"Kind of."

"Is he gonna be okay?"

The Amazonian rounded the counter, displaying the many plates of pancakes she made. "He will," she answered firmly and Rachel believed her. "This is something Dick has always dealt with. Even back when we were kids, he would get... episodes. He still does every so often, he's just better at dealing with them after years of practice."

"When was the last one?" Rachel slowly took her spot back at the island, drinking in every clue she could get to this perplexing mystery.

Donna set an empty plate in front of her, enticing her further to stay. Damn. She _was_ good.

"I think it was back when he first moved to Detroit, a few years ago. He had just left Gotham--"

"He killed the guy who killed his parents, right?"

The Amazonian and alien woman looked at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her to know _that_ particular cup of tea.

Rachel blushed into her orange juice. "Little birds talk."

Donna laughed quietly. "O-kay. Um, for the record - to set those little birds straight - he didn't _kill_ him. He just decided to not save him."

"There’s a difference?" the girl wondered.

"In Dick's case, yes."

Kori touched her arm. "Anyway..."

"Yes, right." Donna dropped a pancake on Rachel's plate, then followed it with another and another until she gestured to her to stop. "Anyway, so after Dick left Gotham _because of reasons_ , he went out to Detroit and entered the academy to be a cop."

Kori took the syrup from Rachel before her breakfast become more syrup than pancake.

The girl sent her a mild glare but grabbed a fork and knife anyway.

"And that's when he got sick?"

"Yeah. Well, last time he got it this bad. Like I said, it never really goes away."

"But what is it? Is he gonna be okay?"

Donna chewed over her response.

"He's--"

With a tired grunt, Jason stumbled into the kitchen. Kori sat up a little straighter.

"Morning," she greeted.

"Coffee," the boy grumbled in response. The woman slid a steaming mug into his hands.

Rachel turned back to Donna.

"What about Dick? Is he gonna be okay?" she asked, but the woman gave her a look, shaking her head subtly. She wanted the whole discussion dropped.

"Food," Jason demanded tiredly, the warm brew having lubed his sleepy throat and whetted his appetite.

Rachel shook her head. "No! You have to tell me!"

"Pancakes," Kori offered. A plate fluffy flapjacks materialized in front of the younger Robin who eyed them hungrily.

The thin-lipped expression Rachel got from Donna was scolding, but her eyes said she wished she could say more.

"Not now, Rachel."

The girl gaped in disbelief. Damnit, Jason. She was so close to uncovering the truth. Now she might never know.

A warm Amazonian hand touched hers. "We'll talk later," Donna reassured. Rachel believed her, of course, but that didn't mean she was happy about it. If something was wrong with Dick, if he was _sick_ , she needed to know. She looked around the table, Donna and Kori exchanging knowing looks as Jason painted his pancakes with whipped cream and fresh fruit.

She hated being out of the loop - like she was stuck on the outside looking in, grabbing for scraps of information while there was a surplus behind closed doors. It made her feel small and unwelcome, almost like they didn't trust her and she didn't belong.

Pancakes forgotten, she threw herself off her stool, marching pointedly out of the kitchen.

"Rachel!" Kori called after her. Donna touched her arm, quieting her.

"Let her go," Rachel heard the Amazonian instruct. A pause, undoubtedly as they shared another secret glance. "It'll be fine, Kor. Just give her some space."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

The alarm blared throughout the tower. Rachel rolled her eyes, throwing away her headphones and scooting off her bed. Research abandoned on her laptop, she grabbed her reinforced cloak on her way to the briefing. Jason met her in the hallway, looking distracted and yanking protective wrappings off his knuckles.

Rachel met his eyes.

Punching bag?

He shrugged, pulling a face.

Why not?

Gar was already in the main room, zipping up his sweatshirt as he waited with Donna and Kori. Kori was leaning over the computer, scanning the details of the alarm with Donna over her shoulder, trying to make it look like she was minding her own business. Rachel liked Donna, she really did, despite how aggravating she had been this morning. The Amazonian was one of Dick's oldest and closest friends and Rachel could tell it was a position well-earned. She was wise, clever, and kind. Rachel trusted her totally and unwaveringly after they had met the first time - no doubt thanks to the woman so readily donating her car to get them from Ohio all the way to San Francisco.

"Looks like a hostage situation at the train station," Kori summarized, looking up from the monitors. "A pair of former military soldiers claiming to have bombs. SWAT has been called. Local units are already on the scene." She paused, turning up the police scanner. She listened, mentally translating their codes. "Negotiations have so far been unsuccessful."

Jason crossed his arms. "Lunatics like these always want something. What do these ones want?"

"Listen for yourself."

She clicked a few buttons and a new voice came over the radio. Male, early-30s, sounded Caucasian.

_"What do we want? We want our lost years back! We want the pigs in the government to pay for the blood of our brothers and sisters they spilled overseas while they sat back on their asses, getting fat on the profits they made selling guns to the very same people they sent us to kill! We want Mayor Ginespy to beg and plead for her life! We want Senator Mallburry's head on a pike! We want President--"_

Kori switched the comm off. Jason grinned at her. "So, you know, the normal stuff. Heads on pikes, angry mobs. Just another Tuesday."

"That's so sad," Donna sighed, shaking her head.

Kori straightened, shoulders pulled back. The kids watched her expectantly. As difficult as she was to read, anyone could tell when she was shifting into Titan mode. They mirrored obediently, waiting for their orders.

"Rachel, Jason, get dressed. This will have to be a stealth mission until we can determine the authenticity of the bombs. You’ll sneak in and assess the situation from the outside. Gar, Donna, you two control the crowd outside. Keep them as far out of the blast radius as possible."

Jason nodded at her. "What about you?"

"I'll make sure we don't get shot." They certainly didn't want a repeat of the San Diego Armored Car Incident. Turns out, there is actually one thing that can get Dick to punch a cop and it's mistaking his titans as part of the costume-wearing crew who had been holding up an armored car.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Jason did his Robin thing and found them a good lookout point up in the rafters of the station.

"I count 37 hostages. Two aggressors. Can neither confirm nor deny the existence of the bombs yet," he informed over the comms. He felt a presence in the back of his head, like a hand looming just out of the corner of his peripheral. He got a chill and settled, focusing intently on his location. Gathering all the information his senses could, he pushed out, projecting that to the lurking person.

In an otherworldly ripple, a black disk formed next to him and Rachel stepped out, kneeling easily next to him. She settled and the darkness dissolved behind her.

Jason glanced at her. "You're getting good at that."

"Thanks," she grinned back. Thanks to her training she had really started to get a good grasp on her powers, even getting comfortable enough to start experimenting with different ways of using them. One of those ways, much to the enthusiasm of the other Titans, was a sort of teleportation. She still needed a strong psychic link and a willing participant in order to narrow down a location, but it was a promising start. Dick had been proud of her.

Kori’s voice crackled over their comms. _"You two in position?"_

"Of course we are."

“Of course you are.” Kori looked around, sighing in preparation as she waited for the badge to retrieve her commanding officer. She hated working with the police. It wasn't even really the bureaucracy or the surplus of guns or their penchant for sitting around waiting for things to happen at HQ that bothered her. It was the fact that she would so much rather be inside, punching in faces and kicking through kneecaps than stuck out here, waiting for someone in a suit to talk to someone else in a suit to eventually command the badges to wipe their own asses.

"Great. I'm almost ready out here too. Just waiting to formally introduce myself to the suits."

 _“Ah, the joys of a top-down system,"_ Donna chimed in unhelpfully, a sympathetic tone lacing her sarcasm.

 _"Top down'?"_ Gar wondered hopefully.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Not that kind of top."

_“Don’t you have camera people to chase off?”_

He groaned. _“Fiiiine.”_

Jason and Rachel settled in the rafters, watching the events unfolded beneath them carefully. Their original assessment was correct - the man who transmitted the manifesto was a white man, around 30. His partner, a Hispanic woman, looked to be around his age. They were both dressed in their combat uniforms, the camouflage making them easy targets among the civilians they had hostage. Everyone was sitting together, divided out into a grid, in the center of the room. The 37 of them didn't divide equally, which gave Jason an idea.

"You see that?" he whispered. Rachel followed his gaze to the uneven row of people.

"Yeah?"

"What are you willing to bet these jocks can't tell the difference between 37 and 38?"

She shifted. "Enough to be able to space them out into an almost perfect grid."

He waved her off. "Nah, that's just the military training. That's how they make you line up when you’re training, standing rim rod at attention in a grid like that."

"Yeah..." She nodded slowly, watching him. "So, they would be used to seeing it. They'd notice if something changed."

They could hear Kori at the other end, finally getting to talk to whichever suit was pretending to be in charge.

Jason licked his lips, looking charged up and ready to go.

"Hold on a minute," Rachel urged. "Wait until Kori talks with the cops. Maybe they know something we don't."

Robin chewed it over for a minute, eventually huffing in disappointment. "Whatever. Not like it's gonna be as good as my plan, though."

She allowed him that much. "Probably not."

They sat in silence for another minute before Jason started getting antsy again.

"Hey, you think Donna will go out with me?"

"What?"

 _"You're_ fifteen _, Jason."_

He tapped his ear. "What, you saying you aren't into younger guys? Worried you won't be able to keep up?"

_"I'm into the age of legal consent for starters."_

"Awww, listen to that." He grinned cheekily, nudging Rachel's shoulder with his own. "She's shy."

 _"I am not shy. I am an_ adult _. You are a_ child _. You see the problem here? Tell me you see the problem here."_

 _"Can we keep the line clear for_ mission crucial _communication only?"_ Kori hissed venomously.

Jason feigned hurt, hand going to his piece again. "But this is crucial! Crucial to my love life!"

_“You keep it up, you won't have a love life. You won't even have a spleen by the time I'm done with you."_

Rachel barely contained a surprised snort, muffling it behind her hand. She knew she liked Donna.

"You promise?" Jason winked. Even though she couldn't see it, Rachel was certain they could all hear it.

Just like they could all hear the barely contained rage that set fire to Kori's interruption: _"Robin. Silence."_

Rachel watched Jason bite at his own lips, trying and failing to contain the shit-eating grin splitting his face apart. It was a spectacle, truly, to watch a kid who had, until _very_ recently, worked with the Batman be so giddy about starting a petty feud that was guaranteed to earn him a very long lecture.

"What can I say? Some people are just into that kind of thing. Some people, being me people. So, pick you up at 8?"

_"Isn't that past your bedtime?"_

_"Wonder Girl, do_ not _encourage him!"_

A lightbulb was flickering to life over Rachel's head as a realization started to form. It wasn't quite there yet, but she knew Jason was acting out for a reason.

As the rest of the Titans dissolved into a loudly whispered argument, Jason suddenly had his earpiece out and was digging in Rachel's ear for hers.

"Hey! The hell!" she balked, but he pulled back, hiding the devices in his gloved hand. "You do realize they are going to kick your ass when we get back, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh no. Deary me, mom and other mom are going to yell at me. Whatever will become of me as they direct all of their attention at what a bad boy I've been, totally forgetting to keep an eye on anyone else in the tower."

 _Ding_.

"You wanted them to get pissed at you. You _want_ a lecture?"

He tossed that thought away with a way of his hand. “I was up half the night doing research and some investigating, alright?"

"About what?"

"What do you think?"

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"About Dick?"

He held up a finger. " _And_ I think I know what's wrong with him. I found receipts and a very particular prescription that followed him all the way from Gotham."

She shifted excitedly, stomach coiling into knots. "And? What is it?"

His eyes darkened and he looked away. "It shouldn't be anything fatal--"

" _Shouldn’t be_?!"

"Shhh!" He refused to meet her eyes. "As much as I hate to agree with Wonder Girl about this, I think she's right. You need to ask him about it yourself." He shoved her earpiece into her hands, his already being returned to his ear.

She refused it, grabbing his wrist instead. "No! I'm sick of nobody telling me anything about this! It's not fair that everyone else knows but me!"

The look of pity and understanding he gave her looked totally out of place on his youthful face, but it did calm her down. "I'm sorry, Rache. But trust me, okay? You'll want to hear this from him."

He took his arm back and was vaulting across the beams to the other side of the large room. Rachel could hear Kori giving orders across the radio, but she didn't want to listen. She wanted to be back in the tower, talking to Dick and making him tell her what the hell was going on with him so she could stop being so scared and nervous.

_"Raven, you ready?”_

She shot Jason a glare, flipping him the bird as she stood.

His laugh crackled over the radio as she dug it back into her ear. _"Sounds like a party. Just follow my lead, yeah?"_

He knew she hadn't been paying attention to the plan. He knew she was worried so he had stayed up all night trying to figure out what he could tell her. He willingly set himself up for a long night of parental disappointment just so she could have Dick to herself for a few hours.

Damnit, she couldn't stay mad at him.

"Only if you let me pick the music for your hot date tonight."

_"For the last time, there will be no date--"_

_"It's a deal!"_

In a flash, he was rappelling to the ground. She summoned her powers and floated down with him, the two of them taking the bombers completely unawares.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

By the time they got back to the tower, Gar was ready to empty the entire fridge (jeez reporters were persistent shits) and Jason had solidified a cocky smirk across his face. Rachel's anxiety had hit an all-time high. Not because of the mission - Dick would be pleased to hear that it had gone off without a hitch - but because she knew the time was approaching. Jason was escorted off by Kori and Donna and he gave Rachel a salute on his way out the door as if encouraging her to _go get 'em_.

And she wanted to. She wanted to more than anything. But after changing out of her mission clothes, she found herself standing in front of Dick's door, completely unable to knock.

She thought it over, chewed over everything she had heard this morning until there was nothing left but a pile of cud in the shape of a giant, rudely unhelpful question mark. Ugh, why did they all have to make everything so complicated? Why couldn't they just be open and honest with each other? They were a team - a family. She shouldn't have to be an otherworldly powered empath to know when something was wrong.

She knocked while her frustration gave her the courage.

There was no reply and her frustration made a hard left into stomach-dropping concern.

She knocked again, slowly pushing the door open. "Dick?" she asked the darkness, her eyes slowly adjusting. His room was immaculately clean, the furniture was efficiently arranged, and the walls barely decorated. It didn't look lived in at all, really, save for a few mementos displayed here and there. Small plants on the windowsill, a record player in the corner. The punching bag didn't surprise her - not like there weren’t plenty of those in the training room - but the empty poster frame hanging on the wall did. She wondered briefly if it was one of those staged items he just hadn't felt the need to take down but remembered that those, at least, had obligatory stock images inside. This one was empty but set against the wall as if it held the Crown Jewels.

She tapped again on the door, hoping he would make his presence known and welcome her in. Not that she wasn't already peering inside curiously.

He stirred from the bed, bare arms pulling the covers aside as he rolled onto his back. She could see him peep at her curiously over the fluffy black comforter.

"Rachel?"

Sounded like he had been asleep for a while now.

She bounced nervously on the balls of her feet and grinned tightly at him. No longer needing the door for cover, she swung it open a little more, a peace offering.

He frowned at her, hair a tousled mess and eyes squinting against the light. "Everything okay?"

"Can I come in?"

With a sigh that almost convinced her he really didn't want her to, he flopped onto his back. One long arm reached for the lamp on one of the bedside tables, flipping it on. It cast the corner of the room in a soft orange glow, a perfect compromise between the light of the hall and darkness of the room.

"Sure," he grunted, pulling himself into a sitting position. She slipped in before she could talk herself out of it, closing the door with a gentle click behind her. Dick slumped against the headboard, crossing his legs under the covers and fluffing his pillows to make himself more comfortable. He took a moment to scrub at his face, willing himself to wake up fully as she crept forward.

He watched her with a sigh, arms flopping tiredly to his sides. Finally, he leaned forward, patting a spot on the bed twice.

That was all the invitation she needed. She, rushed forward and climbed onto his king size mattress, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable on the plush covers.

He gave her a look and a teasing smirk. "Was there anything, in particular, I can do for you, or did you just get sick of the others?"

Rachel studied her hands, very interested in her chipping black nail polish, instead of looking at him.

"Rache?"

"We were worried," she answered quietly, voice small as if she was afraid of breaking delicate glass.

He sighed and she could hear how much he didn't want to talk about this. He scrubbed at his cheeks again, stalling as his brain was unhelpfully short of good responses.

"I'm sorry.” Was all he could say after a long pause.

Rachel traced the pattern of his bedspread with her finger. "I know."

"And, let me guess, no one told you what was going on?"

She nodded.

"And you couldn't deal with that so you had to ask."

Another nod. "I was worried too.”

Another sigh deflated his chest and he looked away. She was making this difficult for him, she knew. But for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She had been spending the better part of today coming up with the worst, most gruesome nightmare scenarios, her brain never short of horror and gore to torment her with. And yet seeing him in person - no blood, no tears, no wailing of the damned - was infinitely more terrifying than finding him unconscious and hooked up to a thousand medical machines.

He crossed his arms. "What have the others told you?" Because of course she would ask. She would pester relentlessly - he knew how she was - until she pieced together the answer or annoyed someone into telling her just for some peace and quiet.

She swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to talk. "They, um, they said this has happened before. Back in Detroit?" A quick glimpse saw his nod and confirmed what Donna had said. "And that it's been happening your whole life. And... something... something about a prescription--"

She couldn't take it anymore.

"Are you dying?"

He scoffed, one side of his mouth pulling into a sad smirk. "No," he replied (she wanted to believe him) and leaned to the side. In a drawer he found a bottle of pills, which he handed to her.

"It's Sertraline. An antidepressant." She inspected the label curiously and found a lot of long, scary-looking words staring back at her.

"What's it do?"

"It helps me feel better. Relieves symptoms of depression, OCD, and PTSD. It balances out the chemicals in my brain, replacing some of the ones that are too low."

She nodded like she understood. She didn't, but she would learn. "What else does it do?”

He took the offered bottle back with a shrug. "Not sure, really. But I've been taking it since I was your age and it helps."

A lump clogged her throat. "Helps... with what?"

A patient sigh. She was trying, she really was, but she was so scared and all of this medical stuff was new and sounded complicated. She recognized PTSD (that's when soldiers started freaking out and thinking they were back on the battlefield, right?) and knew a little about OCD too (that's the thing that made people always stack their shoes in a certain way and have to turn the lights on and off a bunch before leaving the house.)

"Rache, how much do you know about human biology? Specifically, brain chemistry."

She shrugged.

Not a lot.

He nodded.

Figured as much.

"Well, the brain, and your emotions, is made up of a bunch of different chemicals. Dopamine is a popular one. It makes you feel happy."

"From cat videos."

"From cat videos. Serotonin has to do with helping you learn better while Norepinephrine keeps you from stressing out too much. There are other ones too and their levels all affect your mood and how your brain works. Now sometimes, brains short circuit and, due to a bunch of different circumstances like stress and trauma, can slow down producing the certain chemicals they need or stop altogether."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"It's what's always happening to me. My brain, thanks to being Robin and what happened to me when I was a kid, has a questionable relationship with serotonin and some other chemicals. Sometimes it makes enough and I feel fine. It's like walking outside in a clear sunny day. Feels good, happy. But most of the time, it doesn't. Then it’s raining outside and everything gets dreary and wet. I can still make myself go out, but I have to bring my umbrella and I'm not going to enjoy is as much."

She frowned thoughtfully. "And the rest of the time? When _this_ happens?"

His eyes unfocused and he stared at no spot in particular on the bedspread. That same apathy she felt last night chased his smile away and his face looked naked without it.

"Every so often," he began quietly. "Especially when something big happens, like leaving Gotham or when I hear bad news, my brain stops producing those chemicals altogether. It shuts down completely and I start thinking things. And then shit like this happens." He gestured to himself, to his large empty room, to his allover sad and sorry state of existence.

"Unlike before when I could still go outside despite the rain, when this happens, I can't even bring myself to get out of bed. It's like the rained flooded my whole apartment and everything is wet, and I look at it and think _'well I'm already soaked. Why bother going out now?'_ "

She thought about him sobbing in the training room last night. "Do you get sad?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. "Sometimes I get so sad I'd be willing to do almost anything to make it go away."

"…You don’t mean..."

He turned away. "Rachel, I..."

"Dick, _please_!" she begged. A tear slipped down her round cheek. She needed to know what he was going through. She needed it more than anything. "Please. I've been so scared, thinking that you were sick and gonna die or something. That I was gonna lose you forever and I..."

He chuckled sadly. Gently, he moved to wipe the tear away. "Rachel, I..."

She snatched his hand, clutching his wrist like a snake squeezing its prey.

"Rachel!" He sat up, alert and nervous, frowning as he tried to pull his arm back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before plunging into his mind.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

In the main room, Kori and Donna were finally finishing their lecture (well, Kori was finishing hers. Donna had made her point and tapped out a while ago, though she still hung out in the background for moral support. Teenage boys could be assholes.) Jason sat in a black leather chair, looking well chided.

"All I'm saying is--"

"Oh my _god_ , Kori! We get it!" the Amazonian groaned, head hanging so far back the world was very distracting looking. She looked up, blinking away the blood rush. One hand flopped to Jason, a parental finger extended. "Jason, say you're sorry."

"Oh, I am."

Kori turned to him unconvinced and unimpressed.

The teen barreled on. "Believe me, I am _so_ sorry. I was way out of line and what I said was totally... uh..."

 _‘Immature’_ Donna mouthed loudly.

"...immature! I... _god_..." He dropped his hands, slumping pathetically. "I was a total asshole."

Kori regarded him carefully, deciding whether or not she wanted to continue this lecture into the importance of not trying to bullshit her or if she was too tired.

Gulping nervously, he glanced back at Donna.

She made a face and nodded, giving him a confident thumbs up. They had this in the bag.

At long last, Kori sighed.

" _Fine_..." she moaned, playing absently with her hair. "But _only_ because I'm tired of hearing myself talk." She glared pointedly at Donna.

The Amazonian frowned, shaking her head at her dramatically. "Oh, absolutely." Shooting to her feet, she stabbed an accusatory finger at Jason. "And don't you even think about doing it again! Or... or you're grounded! ...Mister!"

The teen snorted into the back of his hand, barely recovering with a fake cough. Barely.

Kori straightened, blinked slowly, and looked to the stars for intergalactic guidance. "Both of you get out of here before I lose it."

With hastily muttered "yes ma'am"s, the two scurried out of the room, heads bowed and tails tucked.

"And someone go check on Dick!" she commanded as an afterthought.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Dick and Rachel snapped apart, reeling and panting from the mind-meld.

"Rachel, the _fuck_?" he gasped, thrown backward onto the bed. Hastily propped up on his arms, his large eyes searched her in confusion.

Rachel, splayed out on her side, didn't reply. That sparked something in Dick's chest and he called to her again, nudging her with his foot when she still didn't respond.

Then, quietly, she sobbed.

"Ah, Rache." He crawled to her, picking up the weeping child in his arms.

"I'm sorry!" she cried into his bare chest. Her arms slipped up to loop around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry, I just needed to know! I couldn't just..." She gasped, scrambling for air. "Oh god, there was so much pain. So much sadness." Now that the full extent of his suffering had made itself known to her, she didn't think she could handle it. He thought - no, he truly _believed_ \- he was worthless. That he was a no-good screw up whose only hope of ever being any good to the world was to leave it. To disappear. To die.

Oh _god,_ he wanted to die.

Another pathetic cry erupted from her and she clawed at him desperately. She felt like she was being torn apart, this sadness and apathy ripping at the seams of her mind, her soul, her joy.

"Hey, it's okay." He squeezed her against him. "Just breathe, Rache, it's okay."

"No! It's not!"

“Yes, it is.”

“No! You, you—"

The force at which he yanked her from him left her head spinning. "Hey, look at me!" he demanded. His tone scared her and she shied away. His hands squeezed her arms and he urged her to look at him again. With a sniff she finally complied.

"It it okay."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to scream and cry and pound at something because how dare the universe do this to her best friend.

"Rachel, stop. Just... stop, okay?"

The softer approach she was used to. It calmed her out of her hysterics, though she still very much wanted to set something on fire.

"Please. Calm down and listen to me." He waited for confirmation she was. She sucked in a breath and nodded, wiping her eyes and nose dry.

"I know this is scary. I know that you... what you saw, in there, was probably really confusing. But damnit, Rachel, I can't have you freaking out on me." Slowly, his hands released her arms, his entire person deflating. "I promise I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to kill myself. I might've wanted to back in Detroit, but that was a long time ago. That was before I met you and Gar and Jason. Back before I... before I really had something to live for."

She met his eyes and found him already studying her. He removed his hands completely and she felt as though she was drifting through a stormy sea without an anchor.

"Just because this thing goes on in my head, messing with my brain chemistry, it doesn't mean I stop loving you. It just means that sometimes I stop loving myself. But I'm on medicine for it, like I said, and I have Donna and Kori who know what goes on and how to help."

Wetly, she sighed, eyes searching for something to say, something that'll bring clarity. "It never goes away, does it?"

"Not completely. It can get better, though, and it was for a while." He motioned around them. "But this helps. Being here, in the Tower, being a Titan again, it all helps. A lot. Keeps me focused. Doesn't let my mind wander too far because suddenly there are a whole bunch of nosy little brats who need my looking after. I have to take care of myself because I have to be able to take care of them."

Things started to click. "I think I get it."

"Good." He pulled away suddenly, throwing the covers back as he rolled off the bed. "Because I think visiting hours are just about up."

Before she could ask what he meant, there was a knock on the door. It was really more of a warning than an invite as not before the third knock rung the door was swinging open.

"Just as I suspected."

Donna and Jason were silhouetted in the doorway, looking not at all surprised. With a flick, the bedroom lights snapped on. Rachel and Dick groaned at them, shielding their eyes. Smirking, Donna marched into the room, taking in the scene. Rachel, who had obviously been crying, looked like her strings had just been cut, leaving her a boneless heap on the bed. Dick, who surprisingly hadn’t started crying again, was over in the closet, grabbing a random shirt and pulling it on over his head.

"Dope bag," Jason muttered, stalking to the punching bag in the corner.

And then there was that.

Donna clapped, arms swinging at her sides causally. "So, we all good in here? All hearts clear?"

"She's probably gonna need some Benadryl to sleep tonight. Tissues too," Dick supplied helpfully as he rounded the closet to the bathroom.

Finger guns from the Amazonian. "Can do. Anything else?"

Dick leaned out, yanking a brush through his hair. He considered her question, emotions flying across his face before finally settling on a shrug.

"Not that I can think of."

"Cool." Donna bounced forward. She stopped at the foot of the bed and leaned forward as if talking to a small child. Truthfully, Rachel didn't even mind because she felt small, huddled into a ball in the center of Dick's huge bed. She fought the urge to grab and pillow and squeeze it for comfort.

"What about you? Need anything?"

She swallowed, then: "What's it called?"

The room froze.

She barreled on anyway. "What you have. What's it called?"

A long pause, no one really sure if he was going to reply.

Dick stepped out of the bathroom, eyes already trained on Rachel's. He took a second, looked away, and sighed before finally answering. "Atypical Depression."

A noise that sounded very much like Jason erupted from the general vicinity of the punching bag. "Called it. Totally called it."

Dick crossed his arms, regarding him critically. "Under whose authority?"

“Come on. Docs usually only prescribe Sertraline to cases of moderate to severe Depression."

"You looked at my medical file?"

"Sure."

"You realize you can go to jail for that."

The boy made a face. "Uh, you realize we can go to jail for most of the stuff we do, right?"

Dick groaned, bringing his hands up to cover his face. And his very severe need to strangle the boy. "Donna, could you?"

"I'd be delighted." Marching to the opposite corner of the room, she grabbed Jason by the ear, yanking him to the door.

"Ow! Ow ow, hey! Jesus, Wonder Girl didn't realize you liked it so rough!"

She paused. "Dinner should be soon. Think it's leftovers tonight."

"Yeah, thanks."

Her face split into a radiant smile and she pivoted, shoving Jason out the door with much too hostility for someone who had just smiled like that. The door closed behind them, leaving Dick and Rachel once again alone.

Neither knew what to say. So much had been said already they weren't sure where to start. Rachel still had so many questions but also a feeling that Dick was getting really tired of her poking into his private matters. He was a saint for revealing as much as he had, despite what she had done...

"Do we need to talk about what you did?"

She wilted, really hoping he wasn't going to bring that up. "I should've have done that and I'm sorry. It was wrong to invade your head like that."

He tossed the brush somewhere into the bathroom and shuffled over to her. "I'm not mad," he clarified, lowering himself on to the bed. "I just want to know why you did it. I was being as open and honest with you as I could’ve been. If you had just asked, I would have told you whatever you wanted to know."

"I was afraid you wouldn't."

"How come?"

She scooted closer, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I don't know. I panicked, I guess. You were… you were talking about some crazy scary stuff and I..." She straightened and looked at him. "I'm sorry."

He believed her.

"Is this something we're going to have a problem with in the future?"

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. I promise."

"Okay." And just like that, she was forgiven, the whole issue dropped. It was too easy, but he had always been like that. So full of compassion and second chances, ready to hand them out like free candy to all the good boys and girls who had earned them.

Her stomach grumbled. Oh yeah. The last thing she had eaten today was some of Donna's pancakes for breakfast.

"Are you going to dinner?"

He sighed, inspecting his room. "Not really feeling up to it, if I'm being honest. Had enough excitement for one day, I guess."

"You are going to eat something?"

A shrug that shivered her whole body. "Eventually. Not really hungry, but that's how it goes. Can't seem to work up the motivation to eat."

He was being kind and still trying to help her understand what he was going through. It made her love him even more. Sitting up, she climbed off the bed and turned to face him. He looked up at her, looking much more like himself fully clothed and with something done to his hair.

"Want me to bring you anything?"

"If it's leftovers there will probably be, well, leftovers. Especially since Jason is a snob and will insist on eating something fresh and Donna will cave because I still don't think Gar has tried In-N-Out yet. Heard they introduced a new Vegan patty to their secret menu."

Rachel would never understand this city, how people could not love leftovers, or what kind of cosmic fortune-telling abilities Dick Grayson possessed to be able to predict the future so confidently.

He shrugged. "I'll grab something later."

"Okay."

"Hey." Gently, he reached out, taking her hand. "It's gonna be okay."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely."

She believed him.

"I love you," she said and leaned in to steal one more hug because nothing on this earth felt better.

"Love you too. And I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Because pretty sure I can summon the dead. So if you think you're going to get rid of me that easily…" She ground a finger into the side of his face. "Think again, old man."

"Mildly concerning but good to know. Now go eat something. Donna said to hurry."

"No, she didn't."

He shrugged, making a face. "You really test your theory and find out the hard way?"

"Nope." Pivoting, she was at the door in a few quick strides. Dick, for his part, was already crawling back into bed, rearranging his errant pillows into their proper sleeping position.

"You want the light off?"

"Sure."

"'Kay. Night."

"Night."

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

It still took another day before Dick was back on his feet, and two more beyond that until they saw his old self come back in full force. Donna stayed for those few days and would've kept staying if Dick didn't practically shove her out the door with a rushed "Yes thanks for coming let's not do this again okay love you bye" and it took all the Titans had not to laugh at him for it. She was a good friend to them all and they were sad to see her go. Still, though, it was nice to get back to the close-knit squad. Mom, Dad, kids, and Jason, a regular American family.

Those same little birds who tweeted about what had happened to Tony Zucco also chittered excitedly about what had happened to Dick. It never left the four walls of the Tower, of course, but internet searches of "atypical depression" and "how to help the depressed" skyrocketed those first few days.

Rachel was still worried - and probably always would be - but she felt proud to be the one he told about it. It wasn't mentioned between them, no one really mentioned what had happened beyond Jason's sarcastic welcoming Dick back from the dead the first time he had rejoined them for training. But Rachel felt like it didn't need to be. Because, in the end, Jason had been right. Dick had told her when she needed to know. Breaking and entering his room didn't count because he could have just as easily kicked her right the hell back out.

Except he didn't. While feeling like absolute shit himself, he had welcomed her, was concerned for her, and had opened up to reveal his darkest parts. She was certain he still had secrets - they all did - but this was a major one she had been trusted with.

And she would guard it forever.


	2. The Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Posted separately because trigger warnings for this don't apply to the rest of the story. 
> 
> Trigger warning for internalized biphobia.

Dick was lounging in the great room, highly invested in the book he was reading, his feet propped up by the fire. It had been several weeks since his last major depressive episode and it felt like a distant memory. It was still early as far as bedtimes went, but a particularly brutal three-day mission to rescue a sinking passenger ship off the coast had everyone turning in early. Everyone except him, who didn't sleep.

And Jason too, apparently, who looked like he couldn't sleep.

"Got a minute?"

Dick looked up, taking in the ruffled state of the younger Robin. He was wrapped tightly in a blanket, hair a mess - well, more so than usual - like he'd been pulling at it. His shoulders slumped under some invisible weight Dick wasn’t privy to.

For a minute, he wondered if the kid was sick. They had spent a significant amount of time in the cold Pacific in the last 68 hours, after all. But the fact that he was standing and actually asking for help ruled that out pretty quick.

Dick earmarked the page and set his book aside. "Sure."

Jason nodded, shuffling forward. Carefully, he lowered himself onto one of the other chairs, moving as though he was scared of breaking. Who or what, Dick didn't know.

"I, uh, I've been thinking about some stuff."

Dick silently urged him to continue, assuring the teen he had his full attention.

"And, uh, well do you remember - probably not - but did you see some of the people we rescued today? They had people waiting for them on the pier. Wives, husbands, boyfriends, whatever."

Admittedly, Dick hadn't been paying too much attention to the rescues once they were checked off as safe. Though he didn't doubt what the teen had seen and certainly didn't want to dismiss anything either. Every detail mattered, all the time.

"I watched them. I know I probably should've been working, but I just needed a minute to catch my breath. And I saw one guy - one of the ones I had pulled out - and I watched as all the wives and mothers passed him by. I started to think he would never find who he was looking for, that there was no one there to greet him."

Jason cleared his throat.

"Then he found him. Who he was looking for."

Ah.

Dick nodded. So that was it.

"And I, I watched them. And I started to realize some things. And it made me start questioning some other things and... and..."

He looked up, eyes raw and exposed.

"I think I like boys and I think I hate myself for it."

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't write this as a PSA, but it feels irresponsible to say goodbye without saying this: If you need help, you are not alone. Please, please reach out to the agencies that can help. Don't suffer alone. 
> 
> US Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696  
> US Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433


End file.
